Mr Lucky
by tigger1972
Summary: This is an original short story I hope to publish in a collection this summer


8

**MR LUCKY**

October 30th, 2005: Approximately 3:45 p.m.

Click! A crimson vaporous being started to form behind my sightless lids. It was violent in its shade of violet as the shape gathered about itself a humanoid form clarified before me growing firm breasts. I would have been at least slightly aroused under other circumstances, truth told. However my frustration mingled with confusion. My finger refused the commands of my mind. I felt the muzzle against my lips, but the bullet refused to obey its purpose. Was I frozen in fear? No although before my finger squeezed the unresponsive weapon a third time a distinctly masculine voice issued forth from the being.

"Jonathan Moon do not be afraid. I mean you no harm, I am your guardian angel here to protect you."

I could feel my lips sputtering, trying to speak despite the morass of mixed emotions my mind was filled with. "What th... huh?" Usually I am quite a bit more elegant, take my word for it, I may never by nominated orator of the year, but at the age of twenty-seven I can string a sentence or two together. Nothing seemed to fit though, I had grown wearily accustomed to the darkness and sheer bleakness of my lack of vision, and now I was witnessing some ethereal shape.

"You sure don't look like any angel I have seen rendered, or even imagined." I finally responded. I say finally but perhaps thirty seconds had passed.

"Ok then you got me. I am actually a Djinn. My natural form is so atrocious, so hideous mortal eyes are incapable of processing the sheer terror it would inspire, so I tried to appear a little more aesthetically pleasing. Larissa freed my from my infernal prison and one of her wishes I granted was to protect you."

I laughed with just a hint of bitterness. "Done a great job so far." I mumbled gesturing at my crippled body.

"Yeah well you're alive," met with a deep sigh from me. "Do you realize how precious life is? Doesn't Edwin sing about how great it is to be alive? Sorry but I cannot allow you to take your life at this time. For one thing Larissa's wish would be denied and I would be cast back into the deepest depths of solitude in my prison. Also just because one mistreats a life and causes it to become defective, does not entitle them to a refund. So consider this attempt, and all future attempts thwarted. Suck it up big boy. I suggest instead of wallowing in self-pity you instead consider yourself fortunate to be alive and in better shape than a lot of people." After this speech he disappeared. Well I was mistaken about one thing, I thought Robin Williams Genie in Aladdin talked a lot, but "my" Djinn made Mr. Williams seem like a mime in comparison. I wheeled over to the counter, placed my palms upon it and lifted myself up. Then perched on the countertop I opened the cupboard in front of me and replaced the firearm on the top shelf before sliding back into my chair. I departed the house with nothing solved I was alive whoopee.

July 14th, 2005: 4:55p.m.

"All right mom, I promise to bring Larissa over for dinner later this week." I was trying to cut the weekly phone call short. I walked as quickly as possible, stepping off the curb, "What? Oh it's gray and miserable with light misty rain." My mother, for some unfathomable reason, after three years of me living ninety minutes to the north of her could still not comprehend that we shared a climate. She always seemed to expect the weather to be much different in her locale than mine, go figure. "Listen I really got to go, I'm late. Love you too." I pressed the end button just as I heard the distinctive squeal of tires on asphalt and felt the breeze of a front fender graze my left hip. I was tempted to smack my left palm on top of the hood to reflect my lack of appreciation at being run over by a car clearly going over the posted limit. I resisted the urge and met with an elderly gentleman on the other sidewalk. He grabbed my upper arm, eyes wide as saucers.

"Are you all right son? Gosh that was close you are one lucky somovabitch, should run out and buy a lotto ticket."

"Well I am ok." I firmly but nonviolently jerked my arm back to loosen his grip, "but I am late for work. Even if I had time to stop for a lotto ticket the chances are better of being hit by lightning than winning." And with that so positive reply I hastened into THE TOOTHLESS WALRUS where I was tardy for my evening dishwashing shift.

The interior of the family restaurant was bustling as usual. I made my way through the front booths, quickly gazing at the sports news on a television screen above the bar before making my way through the swinging kitchen doors. I almost bumped into Kat Wade the manager. Her lovely face was marred with if not anger at least impatience and frustration as she requested my presence in her office.

Kat shut the door behind me; barely waiting for it to click shut before starting. "This is the third time this month you have been late Jon." She sighed and searched my eyes presumably for remorse. "I know I am sorry Kat my car broke down and I had to walk. I almost got hit by a car." I said speaking slightly faster than usual in hopes that it was a convincing display of regret for my transgressions. She faced me and placed her forearms on my shoulders leaning in close. "God you are just lucky you are such a hottie." Kat grinned her face moving in to kiss me as she spun me around and pushed me gently so the back of my knees brushed her sofa forcing me to sit down as her tongue found mine eager and ready to duel. I heard her lightly panting in my ear as her fingers nimbly reached down and undid my belt. Britney Spears "I'm a Slave for You" came on her office radio as Kat playfully straddled my hips and gyrated her own, to the rhythm of Ms. Spear's crooning making the situation even hotter in my mind. I was definitely rethinking my decision to forgo a lottery ticket as this was indeed shaping up to be my lucky day. Just as my own breath sped up Kat jerked away at the sound of her office door opening. She quickly smoothed down her knee length skirt as I discreetly attempted to do up my pants and hide my bulge. Sean Malley stepped in; "Kat the dairy order has arrived." He informed her casting an admiring glance in my direction. I changed into kitchen whites and started my shift.

October 30th, 2005: Approximately 3:30 p.m.

Larissa's brother in law Lance figured two 2 x 4s spaced appropriately apart over his steps made his home wheelchair accessible. Lance was a cop, so I minimized the cursing under my breath as I struggled to get my wheelchair up his porch steps and to his front door. I felt one board shift uncomfortably under my back wheels, but navigated onto the porch safely. I withdrew the spare key I had been given and opened the door. I wheeled inside, turned to the left and entered the kitchen. I knew Lance, as well as being a fine officer, read too many police thrillers to keep his spare gun in his bedside table. Lance figured it would be as accessible to him and less obviously found by an intruder on the top shelf of his wife's vegan supply cupboard. Lance's children never ate that "goat" food, so even if they could reach it was in an unlikely location for them to find and do harm to themselves. I wheeled over to the counter. I hoisted myself up and retrieved the weapon.

August 20th, 2005: 2:45 a.m.

"That was a great shift Jon. I know it seemed hellish at times and I myself wondered if it would end but we made it through." Looking at Kat's smile I temporarily forgot the strain on my body as I rushed to get the dishes through the dishwasher all night long.

"Come on I'll give you a lift home." She beamed as I followed her to her Lexus. I was a little surprised when I entered the lush interior, and after she started her car to discover Kat had Pete Yorn's Dancing in the Dark in her CD player. I guess to one's self, one must be true. Kat expertly navigated the streets driving with the assurance of a seasoned pro as she suddenly steered her vehicle between dark wrought iron gates of the Maxfeld Memorial Cemetery. She flashed me a wicked grin as she opened her door and exited the car. Kat looked like a dark angel, perhaps a succubus as she gazed at the blackened storm soaked sky and let the flooding downpour wash over her. She was soaked in seconds but laughing and twirling. I felt compelled to get out myself. When she saw I was lightly shivering by the Lexus she laughed throatily then said, "This close to Halloween Cemeteries make me really horny." As a young male I state emphatically and on the record when an attractive woman dangles the carrot of sex in front of us, she is allowed to speak nonsensically. I was not about to argue that it wasn't THAT close to Halloween. I moved close to her and in moments with a minimum amount of foreplay I was thrusting inside her. As Kat approached orgasm she rolled on top of me pinning my hands above my head and arcing upwards the thunder drowning out our cries of pleasure.

Spotting a lightning bolt aimed at oneself, a blinding flash of light has got to be on the all time worst possible scenario list of experiences and luckily it happened so light I remember nothing outside the dazzling blindness I experienced a moment before all sensation ceased.

August 20th, 2005: 4:00 a.m. to approximately 5:00 a.m.

"It's okay Alvarez, even a lot of non-rookie cops would be emptying their midnight snacks in the bushes. I have seen some gruesome corpses in my day, but this...this." Officer Ben Raquel was talking to his partner, trying to keep his own late meal down as he reassured her there was no shame in vomiting under the circumstances. Toni Alvarez wiped her lips and walked back under the yellow police tape. Fortunately the bodies were charred enough that there was little stench, especially considering that the bodies were relatively fresh. Toni Alvarez bit her lower lip as she bent down she thought how quickly police were to become jaded. Such morbid considerations were unlikely to be considered fortunate in any other profession. Melancholy musings aside though Toni was sure she saw something and touched the male's throat with her gloved fingers. "Umm Ben I don't think we have two corpses here." She said, not yet with the confidence a few years more on the job would have granted young Officer Alvarez. Ben Raquel lifted his walkie to his lips and spoke crisply to the officers awaiting next to the squad cars parked on the cemetery's entrance. "Get paramedics here now."

August 20th, 2005: 5:15 a.m. to approximately October 1st, 2005: 8:35 a.m. 

My newly gained personal philosophy on purgatory is a most uneducated one. I was not born, nor raised Catholic, so until the "accident" I spent very little time thinking religious or metaphysical thoughts. Lying in a coma in a hospital bed I decided at some point that purgatory was not a location between Hades and Paradise. Purgatory was a state of being between life and death. I can only speak of my own coma. But there was no long corridor, nor any life flashing before my eyes. There was no bright light and there were no loved ones either encouraging me to enter the light or walk away from it. All in all a coma is a rather boring experience, I guess I should be grateful mine was a relatively short one. Other than the occasional erotic dream my coma consisted of exactly nothing. I entered the emergency room on August 20th of 2005 in darkness and I awakened apparently in a hospital room on October 1st of 2005 in darkness and as an added bonus I could feel nothing below my waist. I have not yet invented the vocabulary that would adequately describe my frustration trying to rehabilitate my body while my mind focused solely on what I had lost. Larissa's voice gently guided my progress, limited as it was while the therapists attempted to heal me. To this day I have no idea why Larissa was kept ignorant of the circumstances surrounding the accident, but obviously by her encouraging whispers and too frequent sobs as I snapped at her nobody had told her I was not alone that night. Weeks passed with tears pouring down my sightless eyes as I tried to learn to live within my limitations. Larissa sobbed even more when I often shoved her reaching hands away insisting on steering my wheelchair around the small hospital room and down the corridors on my own. I thankfully heard no feminine snickers when I crashed into something, which of course happened on at least a daily basis. Finally on October 15th I was allowed to go home. I could raise the point that I was not so much allowed to leave the hospital as I was kicked out to allow other patients the resources I used.

July 10th 2005: 3:35 p.m.

"Wait, don't throw that out. All right, here let me look at it." Larissa said. I wiped the sweat from my brow. I am not too altruistic to admit I hate cleaning. Especially when I was not even cleaning my own place but was instead finally going through the estate of Larissa's late great aunt. I looked down at the mildly rusted and definitely battered jack-in-the-box. I turned the crank to no effect and was about to comment on how it did not even open, then decided I did not have the energy to argue so just handed it to Larissa so she could put it in the "to be kept for some ungodly unknown reason" pile. I went outside for a cigarette considering that I should be happy at least I was not doing a dishwashing shift for a few days. As I was taking my final puffs I could have sworn I heard voices from within the house but dismissed the idea as being delirium from the tedious cleaning in the heat.


End file.
